Well. New office. Across town. Three weeks of stress. A mini-mini breakdown. And tafuckingda, here I am. I believe April is National Fucktard month as well, if you don't already know for yourself. I shall just give you a couple answers from late:
1. Marble Mouth.
-He's been a decent client, but every time he calls he sounds like he's got at least 10 goddamn marbles jammed in his mouth. Well Marble Mouth has a now ex-wife. She's a bitch. Like the bad kind. So he gets his stimulus last year for $1,200 and gives it all to her. ALL OF IT. Dude. You're only allotted so much shit from the IRS while in bankruptcy, per your little planyplanplan- WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? Oh, I know what you're doing. You're filing jointly with a woman you don't have to file jointly with. Just because you're married doesn't mean you have to file a joint tax return. And I sure as fuck wouldn't (and didn't) if I were on the verge of d-i-v-o-r-c-e. Just fucking sayin', dude. But that's okay. You pretty much screwed yourself out of that money. Kudos.
2. Assface NoManners McGhee.
-He calls to tell me his life story and all his opinions on bankruptcy that he's learned from Uncle Larry. I tell him that I cannot tell him anything other than he needs to set an appointment to come in and talk to my boss. It's free. We'll even give you a glass of water. For free too. Ooooo. He asks when I have an appointment available. I tell him Monday and start naming times only to be cut off by the sound of him hanging up. Since when did it become an acceptable way to say 'good-bye' to just hang up the phone? Can you get any more rude??
3. Certifiable 'French' Loon.
-Seriously. I say that we have crazy clients. And some are borderline. I have learned they are just borderline due to meeting this woman. First appointment she comes in, sees the office dog (who really is a big part of the firm and clients love her and I love her and she is just grand) and sits down and proceeds to have a conversation with her. Not like 'Oh hey sweetie, what is your name?' kind of shit, which is still kind of fucking weird to me, but not crazy-like. This woman sits down and proceeds to ask Remmi questions like 'How is your day? What did you have to eat today? Do you like your collar?' in a manner that to me, expected a response. For 30 minutes she talked nonstop to the poor dog. Since that date, she has called our office every day, twice daily- once is usually to leave a voicemail that is too long for our service to accommodate and she is therefore cutoff mid-sentence. She also called repeatedly BEFORE she even met with my boss, and once told me she was making pancakes and 'You know how that is'. Uh. Yeah. The majority of her calls have to do with some land in France that her dead husband left her years ago and that she can't sell it because no one wants to buy it then all of a sudden she doesn't want to sell it then she wants to donate it then it has a house then it is all she has... I. Don't. Fucking. Care. Yesterday's call was letting us know that she thought we thought she was a 'deadbeat' and she rattled off her employment history until I told her to shut the fuck up, in a professional manner of course. Who am I kidding, the phrase 'shut up' was still used, minus the f-bomb. I mean really- one can only take so much.
I would think that relocating to the west side would make things more calm and chill, just by association right? And that I would all of a sudden become rich and a Benz would show up in my driveway, which actually one sometimes does, but that is not the point. The last 3 weeks have been the most insane and chaotic period of time since I started here, even topping the time that a gaggle of homeless people came into the office downtown to file bankruptcy. Yeah. Really. Horrible, I know but seriously- come on. So once again I prepare to leave for the day to go to my humble abode to do what I've found really helps during this stressful time: baking. More specifically, drinking Jack while baking. Fun times kids. Fun times.
1. Marble Mouth.
-He's been a decent client, but every time he calls he sounds like he's got at least 10 goddamn marbles jammed in his mouth. Well Marble Mouth has a now ex-wife. She's a bitch. Like the bad kind. So he gets his stimulus last year for $1,200 and gives it all to her. ALL OF IT. Dude. You're only allotted so much shit from the IRS while in bankruptcy, per your little planyplanplan- WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? Oh, I know what you're doing. You're filing jointly with a woman you don't have to file jointly with. Just because you're married doesn't mean you have to file a joint tax return. And I sure as fuck wouldn't (and didn't) if I were on the verge of d-i-v-o-r-c-e. Just fucking sayin', dude. But that's okay. You pretty much screwed yourself out of that money. Kudos.
2. Assface NoManners McGhee.
-He calls to tell me his life story and all his opinions on bankruptcy that he's learned from Uncle Larry. I tell him that I cannot tell him anything other than he needs to set an appointment to come in and talk to my boss. It's free. We'll even give you a glass of water. For free too. Ooooo. He asks when I have an appointment available. I tell him Monday and start naming times only to be cut off by the sound of him hanging up. Since when did it become an acceptable way to say 'good-bye' to just hang up the phone? Can you get any more rude??
3. Certifiable 'French' Loon.
-Seriously. I say that we have crazy clients. And some are borderline. I have learned they are just borderline due to meeting this woman. First appointment she comes in, sees the office dog (who really is a big part of the firm and clients love her and I love her and she is just grand) and sits down and proceeds to have a conversation with her. Not like 'Oh hey sweetie, what is your name?' kind of shit, which is still kind of fucking weird to me, but not crazy-like. This woman sits down and proceeds to ask Remmi questions like 'How is your day? What did you have to eat today? Do you like your collar?' in a manner that to me, expected a response. For 30 minutes she talked nonstop to the poor dog. Since that date, she has called our office every day, twice daily- once is usually to leave a voicemail that is too long for our service to accommodate and she is therefore cutoff mid-sentence. She also called repeatedly BEFORE she even met with my boss, and once told me she was making pancakes and 'You know how that is'. Uh. Yeah. The majority of her calls have to do with some land in France that her dead husband left her years ago and that she can't sell it because no one wants to buy it then all of a sudden she doesn't want to sell it then she wants to donate it then it has a house then it is all she has... I. Don't. Fucking. Care. Yesterday's call was letting us know that she thought we thought she was a 'deadbeat' and she rattled off her employment history until I told her to shut the fuck up, in a professional manner of course. Who am I kidding, the phrase 'shut up' was still used, minus the f-bomb. I mean really- one can only take so much.
I would think that relocating to the west side would make things more calm and chill, just by association right? And that I would all of a sudden become rich and a Benz would show up in my driveway, which actually one sometimes does, but that is not the point. The last 3 weeks have been the most insane and chaotic period of time since I started here, even topping the time that a gaggle of homeless people came into the office downtown to file bankruptcy. Yeah. Really. Horrible, I know but seriously- come on. So once again I prepare to leave for the day to go to my humble abode to do what I've found really helps during this stressful time: baking. More specifically, drinking Jack while baking. Fun times kids. Fun times.
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